The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1887-09-02
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The story OF Edgar Salters new novel, publish
by Benjamin 6 Bell, New York;
Written for this paper.l
1t was generally believed that Mr. Harmon
Incoul would not marry again. He was a
widower of two years standing and of tho
most inconsolable type of widowers. And
he was very rich. He lived in New York
and enjoyed high social position. His years
were forty OF thereabout at the time we
make his acquaintance. His married life had
been exceptionally happy, and he had had
fifteen years of it. But his wife left him
chlldless, and the two years following her
death were passed in comparative solitude.
MIR. Saiters gives us to understand as soon
as we get acquainted with Mr.. Incoul that
that gentleman had early been noted for vim
Gictiveness of disposition. But later on, as
we see more of him, and find him always
well bred and considerate for others, we
forget all about that unpleasant trait IN his
character. would advise all who become
acquainted with him to bear it i'll mind
Was there ever widower who was incon-
solable very long: OF course not. Nor did
Nature intend to create any such. Mr.. In
coul found solitude irksome and began to 90
out little. This stage of widowerhood is
known IN certain localities uninvaded by
modern terms as s'setting out" Literally,
Mr.. Incoul 'set out" and with a purpose
In the Asetting out" process he frequently met
Miss Mazda Barhyte. briefly described as a
delicious girl. At a reception one evening
Mr.. Incoul watched his chance and asked
Miss Barhyte question which startled her
Would she marry him? He told her he would
call the next day for her answer, and he did
Miss Barhyte was poor. Her father was
dead and she and her mother lived in New
York boarding house on a limited income. A
few days before receiving Mr.. Incoul's propo-
sition she had almost consented to go to San
Francisco with the Macdermotts, Bonanza
people, and teach their daughter ''what not
to say" When she returned from the recep-
tion, under the care of chaperone, she found
her mother sitting up waiting for her, and in
gloomy spirits. Mrs. Barhyte had been a
belle, but the small miseries of the shabby
genteel had hardened her. Her hair was
white and her heart was dead
Thinking to cheer her, Mazda told her of
Mr.. Incoufs offer. At this her life famed up
anew, and she commanded the girl to accept
him.
MIR. Incoul called for his answer in day or
two, and Miss Barlyte received him in a
tailor made gown of some dark material,
which made her look like handsome boy.
When Mr. Incoul introduced the topic on
which bis call was hinged she interrupted
him and begged him to bear with her mo-
ment. She said: II have much to tell YOU of
which the telling is difficult 1t is this: It is
needless for me to say that respect you, but
it is because do that feel I may speak
frankly. My mother wishes me to marry you,
but do not. Let me tell you first that when
my father died he left very little, but the
little that he left seems to have disappeared,
do not know how or where, know merely
that we have next to moi hing, and that we
are in debt besides. Something. of course,
has had to be done. have found position
in San Francisco. l am to go next week.
Eince the other night, however, my mother
has told me to give that up and accept
your offer. But that of course, cannot do"
Mr.. Incoul thought she could learn to care
for him in time if she married him. and said
so. They talked over the subject with great
GOODNESS. At last Miss Barhyte asked her
deliberate wooer if he had ever read Balzac's
"Eugenie Grandet" .
He had nuL
She said: "In thinking the matter over and
over again as I have done ever since last
saw you, it has seemed that could not be-
come your wife unless you were willing to
make the same agreement with me that En-
genie Grandet's husband made with her."
"Wlat was the nature of that agreementan
at was that, though married, they We're to
live as though they were not narred-as
might brother aud sister,"
Mr. Incoul resented the proposition before
lie thonglit it over. Then the idea became so
novel it delighted him. But Miss Barhyte
slipped out of the room with wet eyes. When
she came back Mr.. lncoul had decided to ac-
cept her on her own proposition. He said:
at is agreed, then, is it not, you will be my
wife?"
II will be your wife"
@As Balzac's heroine was to her husbandgn
"You have said it."
"But not always IL there come q time
when you care for me, then / may ask you to
give me your heart, as today have asked
FOR your hand" = .s ..4
"When that day comes, believe me,n she
said, and her delicious face took ON richer
hue, "when that day comes there will be
neither asking nor giving. We shall have |
come into our own." m
On this assurance Mr.. Incoul rested. |
In all human affairs there is generally O |
igure or power quite hidden from the OBJ |
server, and of course not counted upon |
~ those who sum up from externaIs ONLY. |
Often it is the most potent force in the entire 1
irama. The unseen quantity in this case was |
) young man whom Miss Barhyte loved and /
Who loved her. Maida's mother had limited |
It him when she told her daughter she wished
Ter to accept Mr. Incoul "Perhaps you will |
ay you don't love Mr. Incou,n she had said |
% her daughter. "And what il you don'ta
loved your father, and look ut me nowl |
Beside, you have had enough Of that" 1 /
This lovers name was Lenox Leigh, New |
York club man. described as aone of the most
admirably disorganized young men that ever
rod Fifth avenue" He lived on an income
arge enough to keep him out Of debt, but
lot large enough, he thought, to allow him to
marry. Besides, as the phrase goes, he was
lot o marrying man. s.r. s
Miss Barhyte sent for him after Mr.. In
oul's departure, and he came She told him
hat she was TO be Mrs. Incoul He resented
he news for a moment, bur either was or
elieved himself to be helpless to prevent it.
lie saw her slipping away from him, and